Hi there – happy holidays and all of that! I miss you all, and the strange thing is, I literally think about writing a post everyday. Seriously. I think those thoughts really strong and loud and hard and then continue to ignore the action that would require me logging in and, you know, writing anything down.

That’s actually kind of how things are going right now – I know when I last wrote back in August, I spoke about how hard everything was. Well, since then, things are still pretty hard – harder, in some ways.

My partner lost her job, so now my freelancing is our sole support system. Hence my bloody bloody fingers from making websites happen all day. And my lack of desire to type anything else when I could be drinking a gin/craft beer instead. (Keewanah Brewery? Michigan folks? Know what I’m sayin’?)

My weight is all over the place, but that place is mostly heading up, which is a HUGE, suffocating, mind-consuming problem for me. I’m working on it, but I’m in that spin where I can only focus on either fitness or eating healthy on any given day, but I need to be doing both to make a difference. Don’t you hate when you know what you should be doing, but that should is what makes you just want to curl up and die?

On the upside, my gigantic 9 month old puppy now loves his walks. Small victories. 🙂

On the HUGE UPSIDE: I booked, and shot, and was paid to be on, a TV pilot.

You read it right – I FINALLY BOOKED A TV GIG. Coming this Spring. New pilot – Jennifer Falls – from a veritable A-team of Hollywood folks, including headliner Jaime Pressly (of My Name is Earl Emmy-winning fame) and the wonderful Missy Pyle (of many many things, my favorite of which is Dodgeball. No lies.). Hopefully the series will take off, because there is a teeny tiny chance my character could be seen more than once – I have a name and lines and a whole lesbian softball team with custom uniforms and everything. Sandy the lesbian softball captain. That’s me on TV.

I will write more about that soon. Because I will write more soon. Truth.

I woke up today having completed a goal I’ve been after for the past year – I finally signed with a new agent. Well, technically, he’s a manager, but he used to be an agent, and in LA they’re almost the same thing.

The best part about this was that I was able to get in juuust as a perfect role for me was posted, a recurring lesbian gf part on New Girl. Now, due to unforeseen complications, I unfortunately wasn’t asked to audition, but that was more about timing and not at all to do with me or my marketing materials. And it pushed the envelope regarding why I need a rep working with me on this whole career thing.

As much as I’m learning to take control of my life, to create the opportunities I want to enjoy myself, and to not wait around to be “validated” by anyone, there is an unparalleled sense of security that comes with knowing someone who’s been in the business longer than I have is rooting for me.

This doesn’t mean I will work any less hard. But it does mean that today, I am awesome.

I participated in an acting workshop last week where you perform for a group of agents, who in turn evaluate you (and, hopefully, sign you). Part of the workshop involved a coaching session with a casting director prior to the final performance, so that no one is going in there wasting either their own or the agents’ time.

I’m really comfortable with coaching/performing/auditioning, all the trappings of an acting career (thank goodness), so I was looking forward to the coaching just as a professional check-in. I figured I’d go in and get some tips on the scene I had chosen and that would be that. I don’t fit into any of the typical actor categories – “young mom”, “beach bikini girl”, “gruff blue collar man” – so for me the game is just to be known to as many people in the industry as possible. Since I’ve determined I’m the only “hip, young butch” around. At least Guinevere Turner thinks so.

I shouldn’t have been surprised by the cd’s only real question to me – but it caught me off guard anyway: he took a look at me, took a look at my pictures, and said “So why don’t you have dyke-ier headshots? Your photos look like a variation of ‘young mom'”.

This is a weird variation of a theme I uncovered back when I was taking a “business of acting” class last winter, which is that people feel REALLY strongly about me and my butch or queerness.

If someone sees the softer (aka “less butch”) side of me, they often REFUSE to think of me as butch, even though that’s what I ask for and prefer.

Alternately, a lot of people here think I’m the dykiest thing since Doc Martens and the Chelsea haircut.

I think he’s right though (leave it to a gay man in Hollywood to lay it out for me) – it’s probably time for some butch-er shots. Case in point – the brilliant photographer who took my last round of photos wanted only to capture the soft side, so while I have great pics, they lack that gayness. Je ne sais queer, if you will. Which I’m discovering, for my career, is essential.

So says my wise lady. I want to be it so that others can see it. That’s what all of this is about.

It’s starting: the boulder is beginning to shift, and once it’s rolling I plan on hitching a ride.

Last night, while catching up on back episodes of Grimm online, I was delighted to see a butch woman of color playing a small guest-star part* as the principal of a high school. Here’s an internet high-five, pal!

If you’ve seen a butch in the media lately, do let me know. We shall celebrate and watch our numbers grow.

**(For those outside the Hollywood lingo: if you have one line in one episode, you’re a co-star. If you have a small but necessary role in one or two episodes, you’re a guest star. If you’re not a lead character but you’re in several episodes, you’re recurring. If you’re in every episode, you’re supporting. And if your face is on the billboards, you’re the series regular. I won’t even go into the money involved as you climb that ladder, but suffice it to say I’m aiming for the billboards.)